


you used to call me

by i_want_to_write_you_a_fic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Pre-Relationship, based on a youtube video
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22447693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_want_to_write_you_a_fic/pseuds/i_want_to_write_you_a_fic
Summary: Stiles gets asked to be apart of a video where he calls someone he misses.He does that, and more.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 3
Kudos: 243





	you used to call me

**Author's Note:**

> I've had a Google doc with this idea sitting in it for months and finally got around to writing something for it. It's not perfect, but I'm pretty pleased with it. Hope you all enjoy :)
> 
> Any and all mistakes are mine. I didn't proofread, so it's likely there are some haha!

Honestly, Stiles was minding his own business as he walked down the busy street when he was approached. The girl seemed hesitant and like she didn’t want to bother him, but he wasn’t in a hurry to get anywhere, so he stopped to listen to what she had to say. Turns out she’s apart of some kind of project where she’s asking people to call someone they haven’t spoken to in a while, someone that means a lot to them, that they miss a lot.

Someone does, in fact, pop into his mind. His heart clenches in his chest and he agrees to be in the video for her project. 

He waits as she and her friends set up the equipment and then give him the go ahead to go to the phone sat on a pedestal. Upon reaching it, he stops and just… stares at the phone for a second, wiping his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans. With a deep breath, he picks up the receiver and dials the number he memorized in high school. It rings four times, and right when Stiles is thinking he’s gonna have to leave a message or hang up, the other end of the line clicks on.

“Hello?”

A huff of a laugh escapes Stiles. Derek sounds apprehensive, probably because it’s a random number he doesn’t recognize.

“Derek.”

“Stiles,” Derek replies, surprised. “What--How are you? Is everything okay? Is it your dad?”

“No, yeah, everything’s fine, I’m--I’m fine,” Stiles cuts in before Derek can get himself too worked up. “How are you? It’s been a while.”

“Almost four years,” Derek says. Stiles ducks his head to hide his smile, not that Derek could see it anyway. “I’m doing alright,” he admits after a beat. 

“That’s great,” Stiles murmurs before clearing his throat to get to the point of the call. “So, I, uh. I’m calling because there’s something I need to tell you.”

Derek pauses. “Okay…” he says, slow, like he’s waiting for something bad to happen.

“I just want you to know that, um.” Stiles stops, licks his lips, shuffling on his feet and wondering why it’s so hard to get this out. “I want you to know that I miss you.”

“You miss me?” Derek repeats and fuck, he sounds… he sounds so  _ soft _ , and maybe awed? Stiles doesn’t know for sure, but the tone is melting his insides. It’s sweet. God.

“Yeah. Yes, I miss you. A lot. I know we--we had a lot of differences when we first met, and for a while after that. But then we got closer. Stronger. And then we all kind of went our separate ways after graduation, which is like, fine or whatever. But I’m sorry that I lost touch with you. You meant a lot to me, and still do, and I don’t think I ever really told you that back then.”

Derek is quiet on the other end. Stiles scratches at his cheek.

“I just. I miss you.”

“Stiles,” Derek starts, “Jesus, I miss you too.”

Something warm unfurls in Stiles’s chest. “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

“Are you--Did you ever leave?” Stiles asks, trying to be vague enough that he’s not broadcasting Derek’s location to random people.

“I did, but I moved back late last year. I, uh, I rebuilt the house.”

“Derek, that’s great,” Stiles replies, earnest. “I’d love to see it someday.”

“Are you still in Boston?”

“Yeah, but it’s beginning to lose its shine for me and dad,” he confesses.

“You could--I mean, if you want--I made sure to add a bunch of extra rooms,” Derek offers stiltedly. “If--if you find yourself back in the area.”

Stiles grins at no one. “I might take you up on that.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, but it’s comfortable. Stiles doesn’t want this to go on for too long though, so he reluctantly ends the silence.

“Hey, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you again later, okay?”

“Please do,” Derek says sincerely. “Don’t… Please don’t be a stranger.”

Stiles swallows roughly. “I promise.”

“Good. Bye, Stiles.”

“Bye, Der.”

He hangs up, standing there for a minute longer, processing. The girl walks up then and thanks him for his time, says he did a great job, asks for his email so he’ll know where he can find the video once it’s posted. 

The rest of his day is a bit of a blur. His thoughts keep straying to Derek. Stiles hadn’t been lying when he said he and his dad were getting a bit sick of Boston. Don’t get him wrong, Boston is lovely, it’s just. It’s not home. Beacon Hills, as much as it drives Stiles crazy, is home. He knows his dad only moved with him just so they could be together without the supernatural drama. If something should have happened, neither of them wanted to be too far. 

So when Stiles arrives at his dad’s apartment and announces they’re moving back to Beacon Hills, his dad, the saint, smiles and asks how soon. Stiles tells him about calling Derek, how it made him realize how much he missed him, how much he missed everything and everyone. He’s ready to go back. Dad says he is too, so they call Derek again, putting him on speaker and tell him that they’ve decided to move back. Derek is happy, says that they both have rooms ready if they want them. 

After that things move pretty quickly. Stiles works from home and can do that anywhere, and his dad is retired. Their leases were already almost up anyway, so waiting a few weeks isn’t too hard on them, even if it is annoying. Stiles talks to Derek every single day. He thought that maybe they would run out of things to say to each other, but it hasn’t happened yet, and he’s determined to make sure it never does. 

Then, finally, the day comes when they are officially back in Beacon Hills, and the first thing Stiles does after helping his dad move his things into his new rental (because his dad might be too smart for his own good and knows that moving into a house that will contain both Stiles and Derek would be embarrassing for everyone once those two get their heads out of their asses) is drive straight to Derek’s. He’s jittery, unable to sit still, running his fingers through his hair until it’s standing funny in different directions.

Once he reaches Derek’s driveway, he eases along, trying to see if anything is different. It isn’t until he can see the house just off in the distance that he notices some trees have been cut down to make space for a rather large garden. Stiles can’t help his smile at the sight. He parks next to Derek’s car, spotting the man himself on the porch, leaning against the railing with a small smile on his face. Stiles’s smile widens. 

“You’re a farmer now?” is the first thing he says.

Derek laughs. “Something like that,” he replies. “Keeps me busy and calm.”

Stiles walks up to the steps, his eyes never leaving Derek’s. They stare at each other, neither of them saying anything for long moments, and then Derek takes a single step down. Stiles takes one up. And then they’re meeting in the middle, arms wrapping around one another and holding on like the other may disappear. 

“Welcome home,” Derek mumbles into Stiles’s neck.

Stiles shivers, burying his face into Derek’s shoulder.

“You wanna go inside? I made lemonade.”

That makes Stiles laugh. “Who are you and what have you done with Derek Hale?”

“Made some improvements,” he says, stepping back only enough to see Stiles’s face. “That’s all.”

Derek’s hands have migrated to Stiles’s hips. He squeezes them and Stiles’s eyes search Derek’s face, wondering if he’s reading this wrong, if this is leading up to what he thinks it is. Then Derek is leaning in, softly nudging their noses together, and that’s all the encouragement Stiles needs. 

Their mouths meet and it’s everything and nothing Stiles dreamt it would be. It’s soft and warm and perfect. 

“Missed you,” Derek whispers once they’ve separated, foreheads pressed together.

Stiles’s stomach flutters and he smiles. “Missed you too.”

  
  



End file.
